It's Called Trust, Love
by Tadpole24
Summary: His lips ghost over her chin and along her jaw, finally settling at the shell of her ear, "Stop fighting it, darling. Trust me." Captain Swan oneshot, inspired by the end of season 2 promo. There's smut ahead, folks!


_So my mind went from that new promo to this fic in about 0.2 seconds…but it took on a new shape as I was writing it. I don't know where it came from, but Emma and Killian were feeling a little…handsy and I am not the kind of person to deny them that ;)_

_I'm still new in the smut game, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated! And come join me on Tumblr (wonder24) and Twitter ( tadpole24_) so we can all be friends. _

_Disclaimer: I wish I could claim them…even just a little. But I don't._

_Enjoy!_

..:::..

It's Called Trust, Love

..:::..

The pull of the canvas bag from off his head couldn't have come soon enough as he gasps, clean air hitting his lungs for the first time in he doesn't even know how long. He moves his hand experimentally, inwardly cursing that it seems to still be bound to his hook. His eyes clear as he looks up, noticing that woman from New York watching him with dark eyes.

The door on the opposite end of the room opens and closes and a man walks in, "Captain Hook. Nice to see your face."

Killian doesn't say a word, just barely letting his eyes flick over the scene around him. Small. Dark. Quiet.

He's in trouble.

"Oh come now, Hook. We're not bad people," the woman starts, "We've seen what you can do and we want your help."

He grits his teeth, talking in a low growl, "Why would I do that?"

Tamara doesn't seem thrown by his menacing tone, "Because if you help us, we'll help you."

These people have tied him up and beaten him down. He shakes his head, because despite all this, he is still a man looking for the easy way out. Still searching for that one alliance that works best for him, "And how can you help me?"

This is good for them; they know the stories of Captain Hook and his villainous ways. They know of his strength and his thirst for revenge. Tamara throws a look at Greg, knowing that they're breaking him down. She steps forwards, "Because we know how to kill magical creatures."

And it's at this point that Hook gets some of his spark back, because despite the tempting offer from these two, he has no reason to destroy any more magical creatures. His Crocodile is gone, to the best of his knowledge and he is free of his revenge, "Alas you have caught me too late to be offering that." He gives a nod towards the door, "So if you don't mind, I'd best be going."

He takes a step, but a hand pushes him back. He winces, the man pressing on some still tender bruises on his chest, "Ah, suppose that would have been too easy."

The man smiles darkly at him, "As it would have been too easy to rid the world of Rumpelstiltskin with a mere hook jab."

The implication of his words settles over the pirate for a moment, but he doesn't let the hurt show on his face, instead remaining impassive for those watching him. So the Crocodile lived. Perhaps he _could _use the help of these people.

Tamara turns to the man, "Well, well, well, Greg. It looks like our dear pirate doesn't know."

He cottons on the ruse fast, "What a shame for the poor man. The purpose of his whole life undone by a princess."

Hook remains focused on the door as the other two occupants of the room begin circling him like sharks, his resolve faltering at the mention of a princess. Surely not _his_ princess. There are others. He stands straighter, trying to ward off the thoughts of betrayal.

He had asked Emma to trust him once and now as he stands here in this room, trapped by the promise of revenge, he can see that perhaps she has it right. Perhaps trust is overrated in this realm. Because he sure as hell cannot find it in him to trust these people. No matter what they can promise him.

His eyes stay trained on the door as Tamara and Greg try to wear him down, trying to will it open by thought alone so he can free himself from this situation. This alliance would be toxic; he can taste the betrayal hanging in the air. Two people with a common goal recruiting a third. He's no idiot, he can see where all roads lead.

"Killing the Dark One wouldn't even be an issue for us," Tamara says, slyly running her hand up Hook's chest, trying to appeal to his baser needs. For his part, Greg stands back, watching with a slight ache of jealousy leeching into his features despite trying to remain impassive to his lover's ploy.

A weakness.

Hook takes the advantage, turning into Tamara's caress, licking his lips. He has charmed many a woman into his traps. He leans in, aiming to distract the team, feeling Greg's piercing stare on the back of him, burning a hole of jealousy through his leather. He knows that if he can get a reaction he can slip out.

But the chance never arises.

With his lips mere inches from Tamara's, the door flies open, Emma and Neal crashing through. He steps back from the woman as Neal runs at Greg, swinging his fist at the man's jaw, connecting with a dull thud that resonates around the room as he falls forward and onto the ground.

Neal rounds on Tamara, "What the hell?"

She's already halfway through some sob story about how Greg had kidnapped her and was making her work with him, but Neal isn't having a bar of it, "Don't you dare lie to me! I know what you're here for. You're just like him! Just like my father. Power hungry and savage," he seethes, towering over the woman.

Emma's eyes connect with Hook's and she nods her head towards the door. Her job was to recover the pirate from the grasp of Tamara and Greg and that's what she was going to do. Pinocchio had come to her only that morning with sudden flashes of memories from a past life. He had told Emma of Tamara's evil, her craving for magical ability and she had pieced the rest together. Hook had never been missing; he'd been under their noses the whole time.

"Come on," she urgently whispers to Hook, watching as Neal continues to argue with his soon to be ex fiancé. She makes brief eye contact with him, throwing a nod his way, ensuring that he has the handcuffs still, making sure that he will arrest her while she gets the pirate to safety. Neal nods back, continuing to yell at Tamara as Hook steps past them, hurriedly following Emma.

"Where are we going, lass?"

She isn't used to this Hook, the one who sounds truly scared and is not just full of innuendo. She flashes a look back at him, "Somewhere safe." Then feeling an unknown bitterness rising up in her, she adds, "Though you looked pretty comfortable in there."

He knows she's referring to the closeness with Tamara, but he can't understand the hint of barely concealed jealousy in her words. Unless…

She comes to a ladder running up the side of the tunnel they're in, beginning to climb it. He takes a look around them, absorbing their surroundings for the first time, "Where are we?"

The look she shoots him is one of exasperation, but she answers all the same, "This area is under Granny's. But there are extensive networks under here, something to do with Regina hoarding her belongings from the Enchanted Forest." She continues to climb, nearing the top when she realises Hook isn't following her.

Glancing back, she sees him smirking up at her, "Thought you'd forgotten me, love."

She jumps back down, coming to stand behind him, working on his binds, "Some of us forget easier than others, it seems," she mutters under her breath, her tone laced with jealousy she hadn't known she was harbouring. But god, the way he had been standing over Tamara in that room made her blood boil. She was their enemy, he wasn't supposed to flirt with the enemy. At least that's what she tells herself to feel better.

As soon as his wrists are free, he captures her arm with his hook, pinning it, and her, up against the wall by the ladder, "What is that supposed to mean?"

She visibly trembles, more turned on than she should be by his solid body pressed up against hers, his mouth blowing hot air across her cheek, his blue eyes alluring and dangerous. But she won't give in. "Hook…" she breathes, shaking her head, and ignoring his question she slips her slim wrist out from its confines and turns to the ladder again, "Come on, you probably haven't eaten in days."

..:::..

He catches her as she's leaving the sheriff's station later that night, making his move as she locks the doors behind her, "I heard the Crocodile lives on."

She turns with a start, holding a hand to her chest, "Hook, what…" but she spies the paper bag in his hand, "Is that food?"

He nods, "A bargaining chip for information."

Emma's eyes reluctantly dart to the bag again. She's only a few blocks from home, but she knows that no one has done any shopping in the last week and she's tired and starving after spending the rest of her evening ensuring Tamara and Greg were processed correctly. She scrunches up her face, snatches the bag and nods, "Okay. What do you want to know?"

He turns on his heel, walking towards the docks and she follows, not even caring where they go as her teeth sink into the best burger she's tasted in years, "Why?" he asks simply.

She wipes at her mouth, "Because I don't like people dying. That's why."

"So you _were_ the one who betrayed me?" his voice is dripping with disdain at the thought. The Crocodile is the worst fiend he has known and she _saved_ him.

A slow building anger burns in her at those words. It's not like she owes him anything, any favours, "It wasn't a personal attack, Hook."

But he's not buying it, "Please, princess. You commandeered my ship, stripped me of my honour and you allowed the man who stole my love to live. Excuse me for believing it was somewhat personal."

She feels that same bitterness from earlier returning, recognising undercurrents of jealousy at the mention of his past love. It's unfamiliar and unwanted. She tries to shake it off, "You are so self-absorbed!"

But he bites back, "Our battle is over 300 years long. I have the right to be self-absorbed."

She throws the remainder of her burger down on the wooden planks of the docks in anger, "With three centuries behind you, do you even still love her? Do you even know what you're fighting for?"

His eyes change then, something she doesn't recognise flickers in them. Is it desire? Lust? She looks closer, but finds she doesn't have to move at all, his hand suddenly around her wrist, "Were you the one who allowed him to live?"

Each of his words are hissed against her, willing the truth from her, "No," she finally releases on a breath.

And then she feels the pull.

His hook wraps around the back of her neck, bringing him closer to her, "Today with Tamara, I was only enacting a ploy to get out of there."

She feels her eyes slipping shut as the low rumble of his voice washes over her, his hand moving up her arm and sliding across to her waist, pulling her against him, "I don't…"

"You do care," his lips barely touch hers as he speaks, teasing her she knows.

"Do not," she manages, hating herself for sounding so weak.

His lips ghost over her chin and along her jaw, finally settling at the shell of her ear, "Stop fighting it, darling. Trust me."

The cool metal of his hook warms against her skin as she flushes with desire, "Help me to."

And then his lips are on hers, pushing into her senses and consuming her with raw need. Need for this man, this pirate and need for his touch. She was not this woman, but oh, he had every permission in the world to do this to her.

She moans as he pushes against her, guiding her backwards to where he knows the gangplank to his invisible ship is, "Step when I indicate," he offers from her neck, where his lips are doing gorgeous things to her. She feels the calloused touch of his hand on her lower back, under her shirt and she arches against him as it moves lower, under her jeans, squeezing lightly. He legs lift under his ministrations, feeling the wooden deck materialise under her feet at her movement.

Once on board, he becomes possessive, his hand moving around to clutch her hip, "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

"No," she breathes as his hook tears down the front of her blouse, ripping apart her bra in the process, nudging the shreds apart and pushing them, along with her coat, off her shoulders, leaving her standing naked from the waist up on the moonlit decks of the Jolly Roger.

He stands back, just briefly, admiring his work, but as his eyes meet hers, he knows she's taking back some of her control. He feels a craving need shoot through him, and all at once he is pressed against her again, her back hitting the door to the lower deck in their frenzy.

He kisses down her chest, his tongue sweeping out to play with her sensitive skin, leaving it cool in the night air, such a stark contrast to the sweltering heat between them. His hand trails up her thigh, teasing her legs apart, "You trust me yet, princess?"

His lips still on her stomach, eyes cast upwards, awaiting her answer. She shakes her head.

_Minx._

Two can play at that game.

He kisses lower, stopping at the top of her jeans, asking her again.

"No."

But he can tell her resolve is wavering, her hips rocking off the door and closer to him each time he stops. He unbuttons the jeans, pulling down the zip slowly sliding the denim over her hips and down her legs, leaving her exposed in only her underwear as he pushes the clothing completely off her body along with her shoes. His mouth is blowing hot air against her newly uncovered skin and she feels her breathing quicken in time with her rapidly beating heart, "Now?"

Her eyes lock with his this time, his face between her legs, in the most compromising of positions and she doesn't feel anxious about it at all, "Starting to."

That's good enough for him as he slices off her underwear in one quick movement, his mouth covering her a moment later, tongue flicking out against her sensitive skin to make her moan above him, her head rolling back. He smiles against her, a dark smile of possession. She is his.

But she doesn't want it to end there, her fingers threading through his hair and tugging him upwards, "My turn," she says, pulling at the laces that adorn his clothing, making quick work of his vest and shirt, running her hands and lips across his skin as he undoes his pants, letting them fall to the ground leaving him bare before her.

Before he can say anything, she has pulled him roughly against her again, their lips tangling together once more, drowning the sound of their mutual moans of lust at the feel of their bare skin touching, igniting their fast paced heat once again.

He is devouring her, his lips unrelenting, bruising. And she doesn't care. It just feels too good to care. She rolls her hips against his, feeling his arousal hot and hard on her belly. With meaning in her gaze, she breaks away from the pirate for just a second, hooking a leg over his hip and reaching between them, stroking him, guiding him, "I trust you."

And he drives into her. Stilling inside her as her gasps subside and then moving slowly, surely.

"_Gods_, Emma."

She stands on her toes, trying to get a different angle, but Hook takes the hint and lifts her completely off the ground, using the door to support her as he thrusts deeper into her. Emma's eyes close in pleasure as her head tilts backwards, a long moan pouring from her lips, "Don't ever stop."

He smiles at that, digging his fingers into her hip, trailing the curve of his hook up her thigh, "Oh I have no intention of stopping, love." The cooled metal touches her right where she needs it, eliciting a cry from her as she rocks her hips faster against him, the pressure in her core building, threatening to spill.

She runs her fingernails up and down his back, curling one hand in his hair, so close to the edge, but not wanting to topple over just yet.

Then he leans in, his breath coming in soft pants against her neck as he whispers, "Come undone, love. Show me your trust." He scrapes his teeth along her neck, the sensation sending tingles through her as she feels her body begin to fall over that precipice and into utter pleasure.

Her body tightens around him as she throws her head back and then forward again, her mouth crashing against his, kissing him through her climax as he swallows her screams. He follows her seconds after, stars dancing behind his eyelids at the sheer magic of it all.

She doesn't stop kissing him for a long time after. They just lean up against the door, leisurely exploring each other's lips and tongues and teeth until she reaches behind her and turns the doorknob.

They fall inside, her legs still draped around his hips, and he makes a beeline for the bed, no words needed between them. They both know the magnitude of what has just happened.

He lays blankets over them and continues to kiss her until they fall asleep. He doesn't know if he'll ever tell her the reason he needed her to trust him was about him needing to believe it wasn't overrated again.

But he knows now, without a doubt, that he will always align himself with her.

..:::..

_Reviews make my day! ;)_


End file.
